Ask and you will receive
by Ella Inspired
Summary: In which Ray asks questions and Stella obliges. A school project with a difference.


**Ask and you will receive**

**By Ella **

_I don't own Lemonade Mouth_

(^^)

As a kid, you see and hear a lot of things you don't understand. And though you want to ask, you aren't sure if you're supposed to. The words don't form and the phrase doesn't make sense so in the end you're left with a question that doesn't really have an answer.

Until of course, you ask.

But asking can be a problem.

What happens if the answer isn't what you expected, or wanted?

When you ask why it rains, you expect the answer to be amazing, for them to say that fairies make water fall from the heavens or the gods in the sky are sad and are crying. Instead people give you this whole textbook definition about perspiration and clouds and high pressure and all that stuff that's supposed to mean something but doesn't.

Asking questions only gets worse when you get older.

You can't easily fake innocence or nonchalance enough to pretend you aren't embarrassed by whatever it is you have to ask. But in the end, you know you have to ask eventually or the answer will always be the one you never wanted.

Ray Beech never had that problem.

"How can Pepsi be blue?"

"Look I'll show you," Stella said, raising a hand to signal the waiter. When he arrived, she asked, "Hey, what color is Pepsi?"

The waiter, a scrawny, awkward looking boy of fourteen blinked, surprised by such an odd question. "It's black isn't it?"

"No, it's blue," she argued.

He timidly replied in affirmation, knowing full well that the customer is always right. And also that Stella Yamada was never wrong. "Of course ma'am, how stupid of me, Pepsi's definitely blue."

"See!"

Ray rolled his eyes. "He isn't _supposed _to disagree with you. His paycheck relies on our tip."

She stuck her tongue out. "You're just jealous that I'm right, and you're wrong."

"How can I be wrong?" he demanded, his blue eyes flaring into a fiery blaze of liquid sapphire.

The waiter released a whimper and quickly ran away in fear of getting caught in the usual argument between the two older teenagers. Neither noticed, especially not the blonde. "You're crazy Yamada; I'm never wrong."

"You know what they say about overconfidence Beech," the half-Asian claimed, lazily twirling the straw in her glass of lemonade. "The cockier you are the less you have."

The thing with Ray Beech was that no question was too awkward for him to ask. He was taught at a young age that if you didn't ask, you'll never know. And so he asked the first thing that came to mind… "And why would you be thinking about that of all things hmm Yamada?"

The half-Asian guitarist glared, hoping the sudden flush on her cheeks could be confused for anger. The rival front-man knew her too well however and instead kept smirking at the insinuation he left hanging between them.

He asked questions regardless of whether he really wanted an answer or not…

Inwardly the seventeen year old revolutionary seated across from him, wondered why or how she even got into this situation. This was at least the eighth time this week alone!

Normally such a thing happening even once was completely impossible.

She cursed that moronic project at school. That's probably what started it.

(^^)

About a month ago the seniors of Mesa High were given the unfortunate task of getting a project that involved the year below theirs. Ray, being a senior, got roped into doing the project. And Stella, being a year below him, got tied up and forced to agree to be Ray's partner.

It was a rather simple project.

Research your partner.

It posed a bit of a problem for the blonde soccer player since his partner wasn't very co-operative, so he managed to convince her to play a seemingly innocent game of 20 Questions:

"Name?"

She rolled her eyes. "Stella."

He glared at her. "_Full name_."

"Stella Emi Yamada."

"Age?"

"Seventeen since April."

"Favorite season?"

"Summer."

"Favorite food?"

"Tofu."

"Pets?"

"My two brothers."

The questions continued in this train of thought and frankly Stella was dying of boredom. It was at least half an hour since this torture began. It was a miracle neither teenager exploded yet. Most likely it was because of Ray's intention of finishing the project with as little to no disturbance of her presence. He made it clear that when they got partnered up that he wanted nothing to do with her after the initial research and that she could simply take credit for the final product.

Irritated that he thought she would _want _to spend an innumerable amount of time with the biggest jerk in Mesa, she agreed.

It would be a lie though, to say Stella hadn't annoyed him as much as possible before he decided to be direct and ask his questions flat out via 20 Questions. It was just too funny to watch those intense Pacific blues turn into a greenish bottle-blue color.

"Favorite color?"

"Blue," Stella answered flatly.

"Is that my fault?"

She blinked in surprise. "What?"

"That's my last question," he said casually, his brow quirked, the teasing edge to his question as sharp as the knife she wanted to stab him with.

The heat fanned at her neck. Stella glared. "You're an asshole."

"I don't hear a 'no'," he teased, his eyes going a light blue. And she didn't argue.

Secretly she liked it when his eyes looked like that.

(^^)

After that day of 20 Questions, despite what Ray had claimed earlier, he annoyed her daily. Not like the usual caveman interaction of screaming and waving around metaphorical clubs, but to ask random questions at the oddest of times.

Ray discovered earlier on that if he managed to blindside her before he asked his question, she was too surprised to lie to him:

"Hey Stella, you look pretty today," he claimed loudly as he passed her in the hallway. Everyone within a ten mile radius froze.

The guitarist whirled on him with an unhinged jaw and wide eyes. "What?"

"What's your favorite food?" Ray asked quickly.

"Popcorn with chocolate sauce," she found herself replying at his back as he walked away.

"Good to know it isn't that tofu junk like you said it was," Ray said, smirking at her from over his shoulder.

It took her a recorded twenty-two seconds to realize what happened before she silently killed him (very violently) in her head, much too violently for someone who claimed to be a vegetarian.

Later that day, Ray dumped a popcorn box on her lap, lightly drizzled with her favorite chocolate sauce.

(^^)

His questions were usually quite detached; he'd never demand more than he was given:

"Why do you like playing the guitar?"

"I'm good at it," Stella answered simply, putting her guitar back into its case as the rest of her band finished packing up for the show. They were at Dante's and as agreed, Ray would do his 'research' after she was finished with Lemonade Mouth's weekly performance at the famed pizzeria which suited Ray just fine until the half-Asian guitarist demanded to be fed.

Ray cocked a brow. "Just like that?"

Trying not to sigh, Stella straightened, turned to look him in the eye and repeated, "Just like that."

He stared at her for a moment, and after a beat of silence. He nodded.

Somehow it made her happy to know that he wouldn't push her for an answer she didn't want to give. Stella wouldn't know what she'd do if she went all emotional in front of Ray Beech.

He'd probably laugh at the fact that she choose the guitar because her brothers couldn't play it. The geniuses known as the Yamada twins could already play the violin and piano like prodigies, the guitar however, eluded them. It didn't matter to Andy or Timmy though. They were good at other stuff. Stella, however, wasn't.

Ray would probably laugh at her if he ever found out just how hard she worked to learn how to do the one thing her brothers couldn't.

(^^)

Sometimes he did venture to ask more personal questions, sometimes he did want to know more than she let on.

And Stella found that she liked that too.

"Ever had a dog?" The blonde asked her once while they were busy with homework at the school library. The project was officially on day 5 and the two teenagers had created a half-hearted routine of spending their afternoons together in order to get the project done. The only reason Stella agreed to it was because he offered free food and help with homework, it was in his favor that he was on the Honors list.

She was so focused on trying to understand the alphabet soup hanging below her eyes, Stella answered absent mindedly, "Yes, but my dad had to get him put down."

"Why?"

Though Stella could feel his blue eyes searing into her skin, she didn't look up from her notebook as she answered softly, "He got hit by a car and broke his ribs…it would've hurt for him to stay alive."

(^^)

Within two weeks, Stella was suddenly very aware that Ray probably knew her better than her friends and maybe she knew him better than most people.

One afternoon after band-practice Lemonade Mouth was walking each other home when they came across a stray dog, beaten black and blue. Her band-mates and best friends immediately decided to go to the vet to see what could be done about the injured animal. Stella had flatly refused to go with them.

The half-Asian guitarist hadn't realized she was crying until Ray was sitting beside her with a box of popcorn in the cupboard beneath the stairs:

She sniffed pathetically as she wrapped her arms around her legs; tears stained her cheeks and dripped soundlessly onto the dusty floor beneath her. Stella hadn't realized the cupboard opened until Ray was beside her.

"You know, sitting in here makes me think of Harry Potter," he commented casually, as if sitting in a cupboard was completely normal.

A chuckle escaped her lips, though it sounded vaguely like a waterlogged sob. "You watched Harry Potter?"

"No, I read the books."

"You nerd," she accused, shoving him lightly with her shoulder. Ray snorted. "Yeah, yeah, shut up and eat your popcorn Yamada," he ordered, shoving the delicious smelling box in her direction.

"How'd you know I'd be in here?" she found herself asking as she felt the stickiness of the chocolate sauce against her fingertips.

"Everyone has a quiet place," Ray answered, taking some popcorn from the box he'd given her.

Stella looked at him in disbelief. "And you figured mine would be in the cupboard underneath the stairs?"

"Hey in my defense, I checked the closet before I came down here."

"Why would you check in the closet?"

"I don't know. You just seem like the type to want to go to Narnia."

"Oh god, you read Narnia too?"

(^^)

Stella worried throughout the entire project that the blonde soccer player would use this 'research' as advantage for their daily verbal spars. To her surprise, Ray avoided using that type of ammo to his advantage:

"You can do it Stell!" Mo and Olivia cheered as Stella climbed the rope that reached the ceiling.

It was gym and though the revolutionary wasn't well known for her athleticism, she was quite good at it. Sprints, long distance, archery, shot-put and tennis happened to be her favorite; however, climbing "the rope" was to be avoided at all costs.

The reason was simple: Stella Yamada was afraid of heights.

However, Stella didn't put that into account as she reached a hand to ring the bell. Below her, her gym class cheered with whistles and hoots. "Alright, good job Yamada, you can come down now," Coach Martinez claimed from below. She froze, chancing a glance down. "Oh no…"

The double doors leading to the track field opened as the soccer team returned from their warm-up, their loud voices ringing as they entered the gymnasium.

"Stell, what's wrong?" Olivia asked, noticing how the petite rock-star seemed to tense as she held onto the rope. "Uh…nothing…"

"Aren't you going to come down?" Mo asked, sharing a worried glance with Olivia.

"Er…no…I…like it up here."

"Yo," Ray's voice called from below her. The rope swayed slightly as he gripped it in one hand. "Are you coming down any time soon? We still have a project to do."

"Not now Blondie," Stella claimed; her hold on the rope white-knuckled.

"I've got all the time in the world Yamada," he said dryly, ignoring the curious stares from the class of teenagers. His eyes turned fierce and he sneered. "Don't you lot have somewhere else to be?"

The threatening glimmer of his blue eyes sent everyone scampering out the gym and into the changing rooms except for Olivia and Mo, who remained where they were, merely calling up at Stella, "You can come down now Stell!"

"I can't!" the half-Asian teenager admitted.

"Why not?" Mo asked in alarm.

"It doesn't matter why not," Ray answered with a roll of his eyes. "Calm down Yamada, one foot at a time."

"That'll take forever!" Stella countered.

"You could always fall if you want," Ray offered.

"Screw you!"

"I'd love to," he drawled getting her to make an 'eep' sound, her ears flushing with color. He gave her a smirk. "Come on then, one foot at a time."

It took seven minutes to get her down from the rope.

Ray waited and said nothing about the fear of heights she told no one but him about.

(^^)

Ray's questions continued on even after the project had reached its completion. By then it was almost a routine to spend an afternoon with the jock, be it in the cupboard underneath the stairs, the school library or at Dante's Pizzeria, which happened to be their location today.

"I'm telling you its blue!"

"I'm telling you its red!"

"That's coke!"

"This argument is stupid!"

"Then why are we arguing?"

"You started it!"

"Did not!"

"You were the one who asked what color Pepsi was!" Stella reminded in annoyance.

"Well it doesn't matter now," Ray claimed in a huff, "I don't care anymore because I know I'm right!"

"Eat horseshit Beech," she ordered, signaling the waiter again. "Please give me a glass of Pepsi, no ice."

The same waiter from before; nodded his head and disappeared quickly to get her order. Everyone in Mesa knew that determined look in Stella Yamada's eyes; most people saw it before each performance; most teachers and Brenigan saw it just before she blew up on them while her band had seen it before they got stuck in a holding cell two days before Rising Star.

When he returned, Stella held the glass above her head and looked up. Then she looked at Ray and smirked. "It's blue."

"Bullshit," he answered, taking the glass from her, and holding it above his head.

He glared.

"Fine, you win."

"Oh yeah baby!" She said with a grin and a victorious air-punch, "That's another blow for Ray Beech by the one and only Stella Yamada!"

The blonde soccer player rolled his eyes good naturedly and handed the glass of Pepsi back. "That's the third time Yamada; I'm thinking you owe me insurance for all this ego beating you're doing."

She cocked her head, took a sip of the Pepsi, eying him over the rim of the glass. She placed the glass of Pepsi in between them. "I'm good for you Beech, you should be paying me."

Ah, an opening!

Ray leaned his elbows against the table, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of the glass in between them. He observed her, contemplating the question on his tongue.

You see my dear readers, though the project given to the seniors of Mesa High was made to discover things about their partners, it was also created to open up the seniors for whom the project was made for: to discover themselves in the people they were paired with.

A curious thing that Ray discovered was that he wasn't as much of a jerk as he assumed, and he wasn't as big of an asshole as he pretended to be either.

Though these discoveries didn't really alter him, it was the last that managed to send him in a tailspin.

In the month that Stella had integrated herself more permanently in his life rather than the random verbal duels they took part in, the blonde soccer player realized that maybe it wasn't hate or competitiveness that made him react rather violently towards the half-Asian revolutionary.

He discovered this in the last week of the project when he reflected that Stella wouldn't have any reason to open herself up to him, nor would they have any reason to spend time together other than for their daily fights at school.

The question sat on his tongue, just waiting to be asked. Something held him back though, like: what happens if she says no?

That was the downside of questions, if you don't ask them; you'll never know the answer.

And Ray was simply waiting for the right opportunity to do so:

"I beg to differ, considering all the money you made me spend feeding you and all the hours I'm never going to get back from talking to you, I'd say you owe me."

"Oh fun," Stella claimed with a snicker. "And what do you propose I do to repay you for the valuable waste on your resources and time?"

"A date would probably do."

A smile tugged at her lips. "Who would be crazy enough to go on a date with a closet nerd like you?"

"I'll give you clue: She's the only one crazy enough to argue the color of Pepsi with me, and win."

Stella grinned.

"About time you realized how awesome I was, Beech."

**FINIS**

**SIGGHHH**

**It's been such a long time since I've written anything lately. I don't know who to blame, school, the 50K writing challenge I accepted or the little guy in my head named Inspiration who seems to be on an extended vacation. Oh kill me NOOOWWWWW. **

**On the upside, this story is 3K words, and written in two hours so that's a pretty good thing don't you think? Also, I just realized that this is exactly my 28****th**** story for the Lemonade Mouth fandom. Two more and I'm official at 30 stories for LM, whoohoo! The only thing that could make me happier is if Hayley K. and Chris B. reads this one xD**

**Thanks for reading guys, hope you enjoyed.**

**Ella**


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